One summer's evening, a skinny, not-particularly athletic boy, perhaps eleven years old, scored the most glorious touchdown of his life.  This was not a real game.  My friend and I, along with his older brother Phil, were just tossing a ball around in the park.  But it was a memorable triumph because I scored my touchdown by outmaneuvering Phil with a head fake, and then outrunning him for half the length of the field.  It was almost too easy! I was so giddy at my remarkable feat that I saw nothing peculiar in the fact that my pursuer, a very athletic boy several years my senior, somehow could not catch me.  I went home that evening and boasted breathlessly about my achievement.  Slowly, reality dawned on me.  Today, I remember that moment fondly as a teenager's generous gift to his kid brother's gawky friend.  I also realize, upon reflection, that Phil was not the only one willing to grant me that artificial ego boost. ...(Read Full Article)